


Aftermath

by Nightwinging_it



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: M/M, Reyder, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 05:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightwinging_it/pseuds/Nightwinging_it
Summary: In the aftermath of a fight with his boyfriend Scott, Reyes gets a call that Scott is at Kralla's Song and something is very, very wrong.(For Whumptober 2019, Day 21-"Laced Drink")





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't written RyderxReyes in a while, so I decided to write a one-shot for Whumptober! I've been having trouble with my Tumblr, so I decided to post it here. It was good to get back to the boys, so hopefully you enjoy it!

Reyes sat down and poured himself a drink. He had some work to do, but he was too caught up in his own thoughts to focus.

“Dammit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

He looked at his omni-tool. He could call Scott, ask him to come here. They could talk it out.

He knew it was just stress. Scott tried so hard to hide his stress that it built up inside of him and erupted out at the smallest of things. Reyes should’ve seen their fight coming.

It always started as anger at little things. Scott would stub his toe on a chair, and swear viciously at it, kicking it. He would get mad when the doors on Kadara Port opened too slow. He would be impatient with Liam’s usual teasing.

Reyes had seen the signs when Scott arrived on Kadara two days ago. He’d spilled some of his beer and sworn, throwing the whole bottle at the wall in anger. It always drained from him as quickly as it overcame him. He had apologized profusely, cleaned up the mess, weakly laughed off his own outburst.

“I was pretending it was one of those kett from the other day,” he’d joked.

Then he’d tripped coming up the stairs, exhausted and struggling under the weight of his armor. When he hit the ground, he’d slammed his fist against it and cursed anything that came to mind; the stairs, the kett, himself, Cora for walking too fast ahead of him.

But then Cora helped him up and Scott apologized for swearing at her, and everything was good again. He cracked a joke about how coordination didn’t run in his family, and if it tried it’d probably trip.

Reyes should’ve kept those things in mind, but he’d been so preoccupied by a complicated smuggling job that he hadn’t been thinking straight.

“You should take a break,” he’d said.

“Oh, yea, let me just use my vacation time and hope someone else can keep the galaxy from going to shit,” Scott had said back, that anger lurking below his voice.

“I’m just saying. You’re getting stressed,” Reyes said, and had let his hands slide to Scott’s shoulders, massaging them, feeling how tense he was. “You’ve always been bad at handling stress.”

He shouldn’t have said that. Or, he should’ve added in that he was also bad at handling stress. Or he could’ve at least offered some suggestions for how to healthily vent Scott’s stress.

But he didn’t. He left it at that, and the fight started.

Scott had pushed him away, anger erupting to the surface. “I’m not bad at handling stress.”

“Oh, yea bottling it up until you tell the stairs to fuck off for tripping you is so healthy,” Reyes mocked. “The stairs, Scott. You told the goddamn stairs to fuck off.”

“I just lost my temper!” Scott said defensively.

“Because you’re stressed,” Reyes said. “And you suck at handling stress. Thank you for proving my point.”

“Fuck you, I don’t need this right now,” Scott said, heading for the door.

“What, going to go tell my door to fuck off for opening too slow?” Reyes said.

Why didn’t he just tell Scott he was sorry?

“I have a lot going on. Yea, it gets overwhelming. But I can handle it just fine. I’m the Pathfinder,” Scott said.

“All that Pathfinding skill led you right to unhealthy coping mechanism and swearing at inanimate objects. Congratulations on being just as emotionally closed off as you told me your father was,” Reyes said.

He shouldn’t have said that. Why did he say that?

The anger that had bloomed bright on Scott’s face made Reyes realize just how badly he’d fucked up. But the words were out there, and before he could apologize, Scott was punching the wall in anger.

“I don’t want to see you for the rest of my trip here,” he snarled, storming out.

Reyes didn’t even laugh when Scott swore at the door for opening too slowly.

Now, Reyes sat alone in his room, sipping his drink as he thought over the fight. They’d make up. He’d apologize, find some way to help Scott relieve stress. He was already planning to take him flying and then go hunting to blow off steam. Then he could talk to Scott about the issue rationally.

Sometimes he just forgot how young Scott actually was. He had so much responsibility for his age, and he’d been staggering under the weight of it this whole time. Reyes was usually more sensitive to his moods, but his mind had been so wrapped up in that damn smuggling job of his that he’d slipped up.

He finished his drink but didn’t pour another. He didn’t want to get drunk; that wasn’t his goal tonight. He just wanted to clear his head a little, get some work done, and give Scott his space for a day or two before approaching him. He’d sent Scott an email apologizing and saying he’d give Scott time to himself for a bit, just so Scott didn’t think he was ignoring the issue or waiting for it to blow over.

“Maybe they shouldn’t have called me Shena, because my mouth says the dumbest shit at the worst times,” Reyes grumbled to himself. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes.

“Reyes?”

The voice over his omni-tool was Keema’s. He rubbed his temples. What now?

“Please tell me you have a beautifully cooked steak and the finest wine, and that’s why you’re calling,” Reyes said.

“I have a decent beer and a backrow seat to Ryder being groped,” Keema said.

“Ryder being…” Reyes paused. “What?”

“I was meeting a contact at Kralla’s Song. The Pathfinder is here by himself. Or, he was by himself, until a man joined him. That has…escalated,” Keema said. “If it makes it any better, the Pathfinder seems so drunk I’m not sure he could tell the difference between a man groping him and a man stabbing him.”

“Great, just great,” Reyes groaned, getting up. “Alright, I’ll come get him. Make sure he doesn’t leave.”

He wasn’t jealous; Keema didn’t say Scott was enjoying the attention or returning it. Which meant he was probably too drunk to resist it. That just made Reyes angry. He tried to calm himself as he headed for the bar. No need to go killing a random man in public. The Charlatan had much subtler methods.

By the time he reached Kralla’s Song, he had a composed expression. He entered the bar and scanned around. He spotted Keema in the back corner, and she pointed towards the bar itself.

Sure enough, Scott was leaning against a man Reyes didn’t recognize. The man had an arm around Scott’s waist, guiding Scott’s head onto his shoulder and whispering something into his ear with a smirk. Scott barely seemed conscious.

The man got up, pulling Scott with him. Scott staggered, gripped at the bar. The man pried his hand off and supported Scott’s weight, pulling him along.

Reyes moved closer, cautious and out of sight, trying to judge how to play this out.

“Come on,” the man was saying to Scott, a seductive tone to his voice. “You can stay at my place for the night.”

Reyes studied Scott’s face and his eyes widened a little. Scott could barely keep his head up, but his pupils were constricted and he looked panicked. He slurred something at the man, trying weakly to pull away. The man held him closer, whispering in his ear again.

Reyes grabbed the man’s shirt and yanked him back so hard that he lost his grip on Scott. Reyes released him and caught Scott before he could fall. He lowered him to the ground carefully, then grabbed the man’s shirt again.

“Umi,” he said, dragging the protesting man over to the bar. “Ryder’s drink. Where is it?”

“Right there,” she said, nodding to an almost empty drink.

“Did he buy it himself?” Reyes asked, tossing money down on the bar for the information.

Umi scooped the money up. “Nope. That guy you’re about to kill bought it for him.”

Reyes picked the drink up and held it out to the man. “Drink it.”

“What the fuck?” he snapped. “You’re crazy. So I bought a guy a drink. Who cares?”

Reyes hooked an arm around the man’s throat and dragged him back over to where Scott was. He kicked the man’s knee so that they were both crouched in front of Scott.

“SAM, are there any drugs in this drink?” Reyes asked. “Or in Ryder’s system?”

“Yes, Mr. Vidal. I attempted to inform the Pathfinder, but he consumed a large amount before I realized,” SAM said. “I have already contacted the others, but they had to travel from Ditaeon.”

“They were doing shots first,” Umi informed Reyes. “Didn’t realize he’d laced it.”

“Thank you, SAM,” Reyes said, and smashed the glass over the man’s head.

“You’re paying for that,” Umi said.

Reyes ignored her and slammed the man up against the wall. “The hell were you going to do to him?” he snarled, voice low and dangerous.

“Kill him, I’d assume,” Keema said, coming to stand behind Reyes. “I’ve been asking around since I called you. That man is an Outcast.”

“Fuck the Initiative, and fuck the Pathfinder,” the man spat. He grinned darkly. “Almost got the chance to, too.”

Reyes punched the man so hard he spit out two teeth and a small pool of blood. Keema put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s well deserved, but let me lock him up. You go look after Ryder,” she said. “Come back tomorrow to deal with him.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Reyes informed the man, mirroring his previous grin. “Fuck the Outcasts.”

He stood up, letting Keema take hold of the man. Reyes got his arms under Scott, helping him up. Scott grabbed weakly at him.

“It’s okay, Scott. I’ve got you,” Reyes said. “The handsome prince to the rescue of the drugged maiden.”

“You’re still paying for that glass, Vidal!” Umi called after him as he left.

He managed to get Scott back to his room, having SAM let the others know. He gave Scott water and sat up all night as Scott passed out.

He spent the night tending to Scott. Scott woke twice to be sick, and both times, Reyes gave him more water and soothed him back to sleep. He had SAM give him constant updates as the drugs passed through his system.

It was a long while before Scott groaned and opened his eyes. Reyes had dimmed the lights, but Scott still winced as he looked around.

“Morning,” Reyes greeted.

“My head,” Scott said, rubbing at his forehead.

“Your drink was laced,” Reyes said.

“What?” Scott’s eyes widened and then he winced again and partially closed them.

“An Outcast agent who wanted to kill you,” Reyes said. “What do you remember?”

Scott looked away from him, over at the glass of water on the bedside table. “I was…upset. About our fight. I went to the bar to have a drink or two. This guy came up, started talking to me. Said I looked upset, offered to do some shots together.” He closed his eyes. “I’m so stupid.”

“You were mad,” Reyes said, reaching out and touching Scott’s shoulder. “But also stupid, yes.” He smiled a little as he said it to show he didn’t mean it cruelly. “Keema called me when she saw him getting touchy with you. I’ve seen people lace drinks like that before. I could tell right away.”

“Reyes, I’m sorry,” Scott whispered. “I got mad at you and then I got myself into trouble.”

“So, a typical night,” Reyes said. “Look, I wasn’t exactly Mr. Charisma during our fight. I’m sorry about what I said. You are bad at handling stress, but only because you don’t have an outlet for it.” He laughed, and pulled Scott into his arms, hugging him tightly, relieved nothing bad had happened to him. Last night could’ve been a nightmare. He might never have gotten the chance to apologize to Scott. “Shit, Scott, we’re spending the day in bed, and when you’re better, we’re going out flying and hunting. And I won’t say anything stupid, and you won’t tell my door to fuck off.”

Scott hugged him back. “Deal. I’m sorry about it, Reyes. I am.”

Reyes pushed him aside and crawled into the bed next to him. “SAM, make sure he stays stable while I catch some sleep. I don’t need him dying on me after I pulled an all-nighter to make sure he was okay.”

“My hero,” Scott said, but he was smiling. “Get some rest, Reyes. Sorry I swore at your door. And at you.”

“It’s the stairs you owe the true apology to,” Reyes said, slinging an arm across Scott’s chest and curling against his side. Scott wrapped an arm around him, holding him close. Scott kissed his head, and Reyes closed his eyes, exhaustion and relief mingling in him. “Next time, just buy yourself a drink and stick it on my tab.”

“Like you ever pay your tab off,” Scott said.

“My unpaid tab won’t drug you,” Reyes said. He yawned. “Try to keep yourself alive for a bit, will you?”

“I’ll do my best,” he said.

Scott pulled the blanket over both of them. As Reyes drifted off, he heard Scott whispering, “Thank you”, and slipped off to sleep with a smile on his face because Scott was okay and their relationship was okay and everything was okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I might try another prompt or 2 from the Whumptober list if I can find the time. Also, I started a Reyes Vidal discord server, so if you'd like to come share art/writing/headcannons or just have a place to make friends and talk about Reyes, please feel free to join at this link: https://discord.gg/cBefZqG -hope to see you there!


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